Rollicking at the rink

With matching T-shirts and hair and makeup befitting an upscale evening out, the women of the Originators took to the wooden floor with suitable swagger.

Six members strong, the Originators are among central Ohio's growing network of "skate clubs" - tight groups of roller-rink regulars with logo-blasted gear, high-end skates and signature moves.

With matching T-shirts and hair and makeup befitting an upscale evening out, the women of the Originators took to the wooden floor with suitable swagger.

As funky tunes by George Clinton and Zapp thumped on the stereo, they glided and swayed gracefully, a fluid queue of arms and hips grooving in uniform time.

They looked good. And they knew it.

Sure, showing off is part of the roller-rink scene. But the ladies, all of whom have laced up roller skates since childhood, weren't seeking the spotlight.

"We live and breathe this," said Slyvella Davis, a 34-year-old North Side resident who frequents Skate Zone 71 off Morse Road at least once a week with her friends. "If I don't skate, I'm not whole."

Six members strong, the Originators are among central Ohio's growing network of "skate clubs" - tight groups of roller-rink regulars with logo-blasted gear, high-end skates and signature moves.

On a recent Sunday, Davis joined others in an adults-only night (the second such weekly offering at Skate Zone 71, added recently to accommodate growing attendance from the 21-and-older crowd).

The previous weekend, she and her peers rolled - and mingled - with more than 800 other skaters who traveled from as far away as California and Canada to attend the Icy Hot Skate Jam, the event's fifth year at the North Side rink.

"It's not like the nightclub scene - you don't have to worry about anything," said Shawn "Lo Key" Lawhorn, 40, president of Skateology, the Columbus club that oversees the annual threeday event.

"You come out for the fun. We welcome anybody."

Long perceived as a children's activity, skating in the Columbus area increasingly attracts older adults, ones who insist that the vigorous, alcohol-free activity keeps them fit and feeling young.

They're dedicated, as much interested in deep fellowship as flying around the turns.

"This is like a second family," said Far East Side resident Wes Jones, 30, whose Crowd Cutta Productions skate club has helped fellow skaters pay a past-due utility bill or offer a car pool to those in need.

"It extends further than just my club. These are my brothers and sisters."

They are known more by self-given monikers - Da Prezdent. Classy Diva. Honey Dip. Sexy Redd - than birth names.

They zoom with a momentum that belies their age, sweat-soaked towels flapping from back pockets.

They twirl, changing directions and stopping without the aid of a toe brake (a standard feature on rental skates - and a taboo burden for professionals whose lightweight skates also feature loosely bolted wheels for greater speed).

And, using an unmistakable Columbus maneuver that distinguishes them from skaters in other cities, they bounce - doing a shoulder-jiggling move known as "pearling."

(Each major city, Lawhorn said, has its own style: St. Louis skaters often hit the floor in pairs and trios; folks from Detroit opt for toe-brake skates to stop and spin quickly; Chicago residents have a James Brown style, which incorporates funky dance steps done in place.)

Likewise, they get around.

Many area clubs travel almost monthly for events ranging from regional gatherings throughout the Midwest to big-time meet-ups in Atlanta and Chicago that attract several thousand skaters to rinks there.

Although the music can skew a little retro, the parties don't.

"People think it's like Boogie Nights or something," said 30-year-old DeShawna "Foxy D" Fitzgerald, a North Side dietitian whose Columbusbased Dyme Rollerz skate club co-organizes the annual Ohio Skate Explosion, to take place Aug. 6-7 in Cincinnati.

"Everyone is here because they have the same passion."

Although many skaters keep in touch via Facebook and MySpace, plenty opt to communicate through www. skategroove.com - a nationally-known Web site founded and operated by Reynoldsburg resident Desiree Crawl. The site, which gets 1.2 million hits monthly, provides a place for traveling skaters to network.

"It's still pretty underground," said Crawl, 39, noting that she gravitated to roller rinks after moving for jobs in New Orleans and Washington.

"But you have a family anywhere you go."

And although the number of rinks has declined - Columbus, which once boasted nine rinks, has three today, with the nationwide tally dipping from a high of 2,200 venues in the early 1980s to about 1,200 today, according to the Indianapolisbased Roller Skating Associ ation - the skate clubs have added solidarity and modern style to a retro pastime.

She estimates that about 300 skate clubs operate nationwide, with about 10 to 12 active groups in Columbus.

Rinks, likewise, have bolstered their offerings to cater to grown-ups. Besides Skate Zone 71's two adult nights (Thursdays and Sundays), United Skates of America on Refugee Road spins funk and old-school hip-hop on Tuesday evenings as well as a weekly all-ages gospel-music skate. Both use social-networking Web sites to keep adult patrons in the loop.

Skating scenes in the films ATL and Roll Bounce (which starred Columbus native Bow Wow) as well as a McDonald's commercial, also provided new exposure for the activity, said Crawl, who helped Roll Bounce and McDonald's casting agents scout for talent.

A stage production of the 1980 roller-disco-fantasy film Xanadu, meanwhile, hit Broadway in 2007, with a national tour following suit.

But what's nostalgic comfort to one generation is simply modern fun for another.

The Trend$ettas, a club of Columbus and Cleveland residents, reflect a younger age in their moves (the mostly male group's showing at Icy Hot featured skaters stomping in time, doing handstands and gyrating suggestively).

"To some people, skating is what you did in middle school," said 26-year-old Conroy Clarke, a member of the Ruff Ryders skate club. "But the love you feel when you do it, the unity - it's like an addiction.